Danger on Donner Pass
by Sue Shay
Summary: 18 Drabbles, one complete story. Donner Pass on Interstate 80 is one of the most treacherous stretches of mountain highway during winter. When Lisbon and Jane crash, will the rest of the team arrive in time to save them? SORRY, FOLKS, THIS IS A COMPLETE STORY AS POSTED. 100 word chapters are very hard to write!


The CBI van wasn't equipped with tire chains although the SUV was.

It was the ultimate irony that Teresa Lisbon was driving the van, breaking the law by tackling Donner Pass then. Chain laws were in effect, even for passenger vehicles, because of road conditions. Worse, it was just after sunset and outside temps had plummeted. A sheet of ice formed under the slush.

Rigsby was driving the SUV, listening to Van Pelt argue with Cho about the ultimate meanings behind Shakespeare's play Othello.

It was a while before he realized that the van's headlights were no longer behind them.

* * *

"Damn it, Rigsby, why are you such a lead foot?"

"He's not going that fast," Jane said. "You're just a granny behind the wheel, Lisbon."

"I am not. This damned van handles snow like crap."

"You should have let me drive, then."

A shudder racked her body. "That's not a reassuring idea, but thanks anyway, Jane."

"Look out! LOOK OUT!" Jane yelled.

In the road ahead two deer stared back at them, startled by their headlights. Lisbon stomped on the brakes. The ABS groaned under foot. The van slid, fishtailing toward the shoulder. It launched, going airborne into the trees.

* * *

It was a steep decline off the road. A deafening crack sounded as limbs hit the roof right above the windshield. The passenger side windows shattered against the branches they passed. They hit another tree, landing on a strong branch ten feet up in the air. Just as Lisbon started to yell in panic, the van tipped forward, landing on its nose in the deep snow. Torqued steel groaned as the vehicle fell sideways until it was leaning against a tree. Snow pushed through the smashed windows. Heavy cases in the back storage tumbled down, slamming into Lisbon and Jane.

* * *

Stars filled Jane's vision with raw pain on the back of his head. He squinted against the pain. Struggling to get free of all the metal electronic cases lying on top of him, he realized that he was fighting the seatbelt that suspended him facing down. When he tried to brace with his legs, both ankles exploded with agony.

_They're broken. Damn it!_

"Lisbon? Are you all right?"

It was silent except for the hiss from the engine compartment beneath them. The smell of gasoline and hot coolant filled his nose. When he shifted, metal groaned against metal.

_Sparking danger?_

* * *

Lisbon moaned. There was pressure across her chest and lap. Her face felt hot and under pressure, like she'd been hanging upside down.

"Don't move," Jane warned fiercely from her right. "We have spilled gasoline that might catch fire."

"What?" she whispered, moving anyway. Metal boxes fell past her, stacking up on the windshield and at her feet. Next to her Jane sucked his breath as if in pain.

"The van went off the road. Don't move yet. Just shut off the ignition and remain calm."

"I'm hanging from…my seatbelt."

"Yes, so don't release the buckle yet."

"Not funny, Jane."

* * *

"So at least we're agreed that racism—"

"Wait a minute, guys," Rigsby interrupted Cho, looking in the rearview mirror. "Where are the boss and Jane?"

His passengers turned and watched the empty road behind them.

"When did you last see them?" Cho asked.

"Right after the rest stop."

"That was twenty miles ago!"

"We're not doing sixty, Grace."

"Pull over and we'll wait." Cho opened his phone. "I'll call Jane."

From the road's shoulder, they all watched and listened to the cellphone ring. It went to voicemail so Cho left a message.

Still they sat with their gazes backward.

* * *

"The good news is that we're alive," Jane said. "The other good news is that the team knows we're somewhere behind them." He opened his phone. No bars. He directed the light towards Lisbon. She had blood on her forehead. "Bad news? My ankles are broken, you hit your head and we have no signal."

"You owe me one 'good' news."

"You're a tough audience, my dear. Okay… good news? The seat belts are holding."

"The bad news? We can't get out of them and there's a gasoline bomb beneath us."

"Yanno, that upsets my score. I owe you now."

* * *

"Call the highway patrol or Caltrans," Van Pelt urged. "They should be here already."

"Yes, and we'll also go back," Cho said. "Find out how far to the next exit."

While Rigsby pulled back onto the highway, Grace checked the GPS and Cho called 911. The first opportunity to turn around was under two miles. They were soon turned around and heading back.

"Don't speed," Cho ordered. "We don't want to wreck."

"Please," Van Pelt added, sounding worried. "Accidents happen when you hurry."

Rigsby eased off the gas despite guilt driving him. He should have noticed the missing van, dammit!

* * *

Jane heard Lisbon's teeth chattering and opened his phone to shine on her. She was shivering, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Hang in there, my dear."

"I have no choice with this seatbelt."

He chuckled and tried to reach into the back seat for his overcoat. It was blocked by all the tumbled equipment. Next he gently squirmed out of his suit jacket, minimizing the shake to the vehicle. He opened the phone and held out the garment.

"Here."

"No… Jane," she pleaded. "Don't…"

"Don't argue, woman. For once in our history, let me _help_ _you_ for a change."

* * *

They tuned the police radio in their SUV to the CHP band, listening as they traveled back to the rest area. There were a lot of wrecks because of road conditions, so Highway Patrol was busy. Being unable to access travel in the opposite direction, they continued to the next exit to re-cover their route. It seemed so agonizingly slow and terribly fruitless.

It was Cho who noticed the broken tree branches with the snow knocked off them. They stopped to look. The road dropped forty feet into a ravine. Deep in the powdery snow, two brake lights shone brightly.

* * *

Jane was getting worried. He was feeling very cold, and poor Lisbon was definitely in medical shock from the blow to her head.

To keep their brains occupied so as to not lose consciousness, he tried to engage her in a word game. At first she fought him on it but he persisted.

"Think of this as my public service; irritation will warm you, my dear."

"I'd prefer a nice fireplace over being hot under the collar with you, Jane. Could you just let me nap a bit?"

No, he couldn't. He didn't know how serious her head injury was.

* * *

"LISBON!" Cho shouted.

It was certainly the CBI van, but how it had gotten down there? Had it really flown through the air? The skid marks showed it didn't touch the snow between the road and the landing point. It was so dark, he couldn't see for sure.

But it was deep snow. The vehicle was nose down and …leaning against a tree? It looked like a child's abandoned matchbox car, dropped in a snow pile. Cho was desperate to contact them.

Van Pelt came to the rescue. She turned on the SUV's loudspeaker. "Boss? Jane? Can you hear us?"

* * *

Irritation tactics only worked for so long. Lisbon slipped into unconsciousness.

At least the smell of gasoline had dissipated. At least he thought so. He wondered if he himself were succumbing to hypothermia. His shivering had gone from extremely violent to none at all, a very bad sign.

Now he thought he was suffering auditory hallucinations. Grace was calling their names.

No… those were real voices. They'd been found!

"Hey! We're here!" he screamed, the sound echoing through the van. He realized immediately that they wouldn't hear him.

He reached over in front of Lisbon and pressed the horn repeatedly.

* * *

Grace Van Pelt couldn't help it. With the first beep of the horn she hugged and kissed both Rigsby and Cho. Then she hopped on the police radio to update CHP and request an ambulance.

Afterwards, Cho instructed Lisbon to honk once for okay and two for injured. Two honks. One for mildly and two for seriously. Two honks again. Grace got back on the radio to advise Highway Patrol but state troopers pulled up just then.

"There's an ambulance and a wrecker on the way," the troopers said.

Wayne placed his arm around Grace just as she started praying.

* * *

Jane fought to remain conscious but his desire to sleep seemed so overwhelming. He was starting to feel warm and cozy. The vest he wore seemed very tight and he worked to open it, but it was too hard to maneuver around the strap across his chest. As he reached for the buckle at his hip, a small voice in his brain – his own voice – screamed in rage.

_You're dreaming, you fool!_

Then he saw sweet, adoring Angela shaking a finger at him.

_Take care of Teresa, Patrick._

But Angela was dead and Jane didn't believe in angels.

_Hallucinations! Hypothermia!_

* * *

There was no choice. For the sake of speed, the tow truck simply hooked onto the frame of the van and hauled up the slope the way the vehicle had gone in. There were no trees in the way which explained why the van didn't break up on the way down.

The tow truck groaned deeply at the task but the van rose steadily. It rattled like a dropped toolbox when they got it to level ground. The Jaws of Life were required to pry the driver's side and passenger side doors open despite all the windows being broken out.

* * *

Lisbon was slumped in the driver's seat. To Grace she looked pale and lifeless. Jane insisted they take her first. She had slow shallow breaths just a moment before and he was certain they could revive her. As they put her in the gurney, Grace tried to console the distraught Jane, even though she felt the same terror expressed on his tear-covered face.

Cho approached and shook Jane firmly by the shoulders.

"Everything possible is being done. You need to get a grip on yourself."

"She's my best friend. She's my partner. I love her!"

"We know, Jane. Calm down."

* * *

Patrick Jane stared at the two casts on his feet, frowning.

This wasn't fair. It wasn't what he'd asked for.

They said they didn't have enough space to put him and Lisbon in the same room. Then they wouldn't tell him what room she was in.

Determined, he wheeled to the nurses' station.

"Excuse me." He smiled charmingly. "But I forgot what room my wife is in. Teresa Lisbon?"

The clerk looked surprised. "We didn't know she was married."

"She kept her last name."

"Let's see…Yes, room 391."

He rolled over and barged in. Lisbon was used to it, right?


End file.
